We chat with debut author Jared Pechaček about The West Passage, which is a a delightfully mysterious and intriguingly weird medieval fantasy unlike anything you’ve read before.
Hi, Jared! Can you tell our readers a bit about yourself?
Hello! I’m a visual artist, podcaster, and author living in Seattle, Washington, where I can usually be found either on the tideflats staring at clams, or attending the opera in outfits of ever-increasing flamboyance.
When did you first discover your love for writing and stories?
I’ve always been a huge reader, but it wasn’t until around the age of twelve that I realized writing wasn’t just for other people. Upon that revelation, I started on this sprawling fantasy novel about a twelve-year-old boy (based on me) and his friend (based on my friend) who were drafted as spies for an empire. Every time I finished a section, I read it to my friend, which is how I discovered the agony of having an audience (she insisted I include an animal companion for her) as well as the ecstasy (she generally liked it). Then came a sprawling scifi novel. Then another sprawling fantasy. After that, it got to the point where my brother would groan every time I told him I’d started writing something new. I did settle down. A little. Eventually.
Quick lightning round! Tell us:
- The first book you ever remember reading: I don’t remember its name, because this is the Paleolithic (i.e. the first Clinton administration) we’re talking here, but it’s about a little girl who has to go get a jar of peaches from the basement, but she’s terrified of the spiders that live there. Has these creepy colored-pencil illustrations that give everything the aura of a haunted doll. Freaked me out so much as a kid.
- The one that made you want to become an author: Fantasy author cliché inbound, but: The Lord of the Rings.
- The one that you can’t stop thinking about: John Crowley’s Ægypt Cycle.
Your debut novel, The West Passage, is out July 16th! If you could only describe it in five words, what would they be?
Bloodborne but you still have chores. (Stolen shamelessly from my editor.)
What can readers expect?
Childlike innocence, cannibalism, a slantwise take on gender and identity, horror, and a lot of art, all crammed into a crumbling palace ruled by monsters. Basically a trip through a cursed museum, I’d say. Also frogs.
Where did the inspiration for The West Passage come from?
“What if there were an epic quest fantasy about someone walking down a hall?” I asked myself out of the blue one day. Still don’t know where that question came from, but I thought it was so funny I leapt at once to my laptop. After that point, I was pulling inspiration from Mervyn Peake’s Gormenghast books, Hieronymus Bosch paintings, Moby-Dick, and the costumes of Eiko Ishioka.
Were there any moments or characters you really enjoyed writing or exploring?
Yarrow (initially known as Pell), the Mother of Grey House. An uptight little martinet, thrust into a position of power with very little warning and hardly any more education, then thrust out into the world with nothing except sullen determination and a fear of failure. Her constant exasperation was so, so much fun. Beyond that, a lot of my favorite moments aren’t spoilers but definitely work best as surprises, so I’ll say: the chapter titles, which are accurate but not helpful; the character of Peregrine, who is the only person in the book having a good time; and everything involving the baby (you’ll know it when you see it). Also the frogs.
Can you tell us a bit about your process when it came to worldbuilding?
There was none, really! I did keep extremely bare notes of things like chronology (e.g. the setting has gone through various eras and I had to know what order they were in), but I felt that if I did too much building off the page, I’d lose interest in the page itself. Essentially, I kept myself engaged by keeping myself surprised: I don’t know anything about the world beyond the text. Every time a character entered a new scene, there was a near-total reset of reality. What happened in this room could not possibly be predicted by what happened in that one. People have pointed out the sort of dreamy fairy tale logic of the story, and it’s due to my concerns being thematic—or, let’s be honest, vibe-driven—rather than the cultural/political things that might drive a much more thoroughly built world. I’m not here for the tax policy; I’m here for “what if your taxes were paid in flesh”.
I also felt that if I knew more about the world, the characters would try to know it, and it was essential that they remain ignorant. That ignorance is a huge part of the plot: Nobody knows the full truth about their world. One of my favorite gags, which might look like worldbuilding but really isn’t, involves an illiterate character looking at pictures in a book. The pictures suggest a lot about the world, but they don’t say anything about it, and the plot might be resolved a lot sooner if anyone could actually read the text. That was only possible because I couldn’t read that book, either.
Ironically, because there are several sections devoted to in-world lore (there’s the Moby-Dick influence peeking through), it might feel very thought-out. But it’s not. It’s all hints and allusions, many of them contradictory, and nobody knows the truth, not even me.
This is your debut published novel! What was the road to becoming a published author like for you?
Shamefully smooth. My editor reached out to me based on my tweets, my agent reached out to me based on my tweets—I am an example of nothing except luck and an unhealthy relationship with social media. Granted, both editor and agent did reject the first things I sent them, but then The West Passage happened. And even that was easy. The whole book emerged over the course of a few months in nearly its current form, minus some chapter reshuffling and the expansion of a few bits. Absurd. The hardest part was the illustration. Having to learn Celtic knotwork on the fly felt a lot like jumping out of a plane and trying to sew a parachute on the way down.
What’s next for you?
I’m paying for that relative ease with difficulty in finishing literally anything! I’d love to say I have some new thing out next year, but alas. To be honest, the biggest holdup is that I’ve discovered I have very little I enjoy writing about. When the second, third, and fourth things you work on also contain childlike innocence, cannibalism, a slantwise take on gender and identity, and horror… Literary empires have been built on less, but still.
Lastly, what books have you enjoyed so far this year and are there any that you can’t wait to get your hands on?
Well, let’s see. Knock Knock, Open Wide by Neil Sharpson, about a cursed Irish kids’ show. Everyone On the Moon Is Essential Personnel by Julian K. Jarboe, a collection of weird little short stories. The Book of Love by Kelly Link, about teens who’ve come back from the dead. And I just finished Funeral Games by Mary Renault, which is historical fiction about the death of Alexander the Great and the ensuing scramble for power. As for things I haven’t read, technically I have my hands on Vajra Chandrasekera’s Rakesfall, but I’ve not been able to crack it open yet. His gorgeous The Saint of Bright Doors was one of my favorite reads of 2023, though, so I’m extremely eager to read this one. Also Monkey Beach by Eden Robinson, another book I just got but have been too busy for.
